The Blackmail Scandal
by MilesAboveFantasy
Summary: When Miles loses his phone, a scandal begins as a reporter digs up his secrets. Multi-chapter fic. Miles, Drew, Tristan, Clare. A weird quadrangle of ships. Continuation of previous one-shot. WIP. Driles primarily.
1. Suffocate by Fire

**Title** : The Blackmail Scandal

 **Characters** : Miles, Drew, Tristan, Clare, Hollingsworth family

 **Summary** : When Miles loses his phone a scandal begins as a reporter digs up his secrets. Multi-chapter fic. Miles, Drew, Tristan, Clare. A weird quadrangle of ships. Continuation of previous one-shot. WIP. Driles.

 **Setting** : Soon after Firestarter. An AU based off my previous one-shot. Reading it is optional; it was a sex fic. As a result, you will be given all relevant details for this fic within this fic.

 **Notes** : Be aware that this is a sequel to a one-shot as stated above.

 **Warnings:** Alcohol use and addiction, mentions of recorded sex of a 16 year old.

* * *

Chapter 1: Suffocate by Fire

Miles groaned, and not for the first time tonight as he relaxed back in his chair in a posture purely to annoy his dad. Here he was, stuck at one of his father's dinners. "It'll bring us together after the fire," his mother had said. Damn lies - though he wasn't sure if his mother was aware how delusional she was.

Things has been tough at home ever since he had accidently, mostly, set fire to his school. Again. Added on to the conflagration was the fact that he and his siblings stood together against their father - and that sent their lives into the inferno. He recalled Frankie shaking, angry and on the verge of tears, as she saw her father for who he was. She had almost died in the fire that day and all he was interested in was the press conference where she would take the fall for degrassinudes. He didn't care about her, her reputation and whether she did it or not despite her denial. What mattered to him was how it affected his career.

And as Miles sadly informed her of the facts that their father only cared for himself, the cold truth that had been eating him for years, everything changed. He felt it as Hunter stepped forward. "It's true, he spoke. "He hit Miles."

And in that moment, their father lost all their kids. He backed away giving them this fight, fire in his eyes. Because they were his kids, they would come home, and then they would forget this ever happened.

And that was why they were at this dinner – in a dress suit he hated pretending to support a father he couldn't stand. It had been quiet at the Hollingsworth house as everyone avoided speaking to one another, the only contact being the occasional touch of reassurance among him and his siblings. His mother tried to start conversation often only to meet dead silence. He hated to see the disappointment on her face as her dreams for a loving family came crashing down in a cataclysm that had been approaching for years. But, he reasoned, it was her fault too; she knew what his father was capable of and put up with it anyway to keep up appearances. But he forgave her out of love and pity, and that was why he was here tonight at his father's dinner.

His eyes spoke volumes for how he felt about being here. A look at his siblings showed they shared the same disgust. They were props being used by their father to usher forward his political career. And so they sat, finding some measure of solace in the rich food beneath them, as they did their best to block out the ramblings of their father as he tried to 'wow' his constituents. His gut twisted as he heard the phrase 'my son.' _"Here it goes,"_ Miles thought, rolling his eyes. _"Let's see how he twists this one into something beneficial to him."_

"And now for the topic of the night," his father began. "I'm sure we all heard what happened at Degrassi this past week. And let me assure you that it was a complete accident. My son has had a hard time recently. He's a troubled kid." At this his father paused and smiled at him like a snake. It made Miles' fist clinch in anger, but the audience would eat it up. The speech continued.

"We sent him off to boarding school to grow as a person. He was a sweet, innocent kid, but he was used by girls for money. And then they accused him of arson he certainly didn't commit. Now I know, I know it sounds suspicious considering recent events, but I know my son didn't do it. The fire this time was an accident, driven by stress and fear due to his private life as a homosexual being revealed to the public before he was ready to deal with such attention. Please, don't think poorly of my son for his accident. We have already arranged for him to serve 200 hours of community service in addition to me paying for all the damages! Let's have a cheer for new beginnings!" His father stated as the audience roared in support.

Miles' face was flushed. This was all news to him – the details at least. It was hardly new for his father to talk out of his ass when using his kids to his advantage. It truly was the irony of his father's speech. Defend his son by claiming immaturity in the face of public attention, only to call down more public attention on him.

He stood up, shaking slightly though likely imperceptible to anyone else. The gazes of the dinner guest were on him as they cheered for his father. He stormed from the hall and into the hallways, taking a deep breath of the cool air to calm his nerves. He leaned against the wall as he pulled out his phone. He needed to talk. Winston? He was never any help and would only chirp obedience like his mother. Maya? No, he couldn't trouble her any longer. It wasn't fair. Tristan? Tristan hated him. He was, after all, a user. Drew? His finger hovered over his contact recalling the last time that Drew had helped him overcome his anger at his father. But no, he couldn't bother Drew. It wasn't his right to drag Drew into this. And he slumped to the floor against the wall, dropping his phone to his side.

His stomach clenched at the thought of going back to school next week. He would likely be put to work in the cafeteria for the term while everyday dealing with the harsh calls of 'pscyho' whispered under breathes as his classmates harassed him for trying to burn down the school in a hissy fit. His shoulder blades already ached at the thought of some jock shoving him into the lockers muttering 'rich boy' knowing that the only reason he wasn't in juvie was because of his father's money.

And that was the easy part. His father had announced his sexuality to the world – or at least his interpretation of it. He was still uncertain of that himself though the blanket term of homosexual felt wrong in some way. Truth be told he had only ever had sex with two guys; which, while both were amazing experiences, didn't erase his interest in girls. In Maya. Until now, the issue of his sexuality had been relatively quiet with most people assuming his relationship with Tristan was misconstrued by the media or an act on his part to mock his father. But now his father had claimed him as gay to the world. And he felt suffocated at the thought as his future loves and would-be friends were confined in a box with him.

He jerked to awareness to his surroundings, breathing hard, as a hand shook him. He looked. A woman with dark hair and the first sketches of wrinkles on her face, probably in her mid 30s. A reporter. "Not now," he murmured, as he stood up and began to walk away. He yanked his arm from her and she reached out to grab him. "I'm serious."

She ignored him. "Care to tell me how you feel about your father's speech?" she asked.

He ignored her as he sped his walk to the exit.

"I'll get this scoop; I always do!" he heard as he left. He ran to his car in a huff, happy he had insisted on driving here alone to avoid his father earlier that evening. He turned on the radio to help him drown out his thoughts. " _Thinking. Bad!"_ he forced himself to think, realizing he sounded like a two year old but not caring. If there was one thing he learned at boarding school it was that the best way to block out thoughts was Taco Bell and vodka. Or whiskey. _"Or both,"_ he thought nodding at his plan as he sped off.

So he drove to Taco Bell and then straight to home to concoct a cocktail by pouring half of his Taco Bell coke into the sink before refilling the cup with arbitrary amounts of vodka and whiskey each to the rim.

And as he was shoving a taco into his mouth, the first flares of tipsiness coursing through his blood, he remembered dropping his phone.


	2. Wrecked Dreams

**Chapter 2: Wrecked Dreams**

Monica Sanchez wasn't a young woman. Oh, she wasn't old by any means. She bore her budding wrinkles as a mark of sophistication on her otherwise naturally smooth, brown face. Truly, the only time she felt as old as her years dictated was when she was fumbling with technology. Her coworkers laughed as she tried to do the simplest things such as transfer a file between her computer and a flash drive. And now she was struggling at doing something as simple as extracting files from the phone of Miles Hollingsworth III, the teenage son of business tycoon and soon to be mayor Miles Hollingsworth II.

It wasn't important to her whether the father became mayor; in fact, it was nothing short of a speck of dirt to her career. Perhaps quite literally. What she thrived on was publicity and scandal and this is what she was hoping to find. The eldest Hollingsworth child was certainly a spectacle with a track record well beyond that of the average locally famous rich kid. She relished in the thought of the dirt she could dig up from the teen's phone.

She whistled quietly, air passing between her lips like a breeze, as she successfully transferred the files from the phone to her laptop, another victory for the night. She replaced the phone in her purse, making a mental note of returning the phone to the banquet hall that held the press conference. She would leave it on the floor and it would be found, and sent to lost and found before anyone knew it was stolen. She smirked. There was always something thrilling about bending the law.

It wasn't smart to do so in public, but she couldn't help herself but to sneak a peek at the files. There were texts, hundreds of which she would search through later. A quick glance through the photos showed no nudes. She frowned; not that she wanted to see the nudes, but more the matter that it was the most likely dirt she planned to find on a 16 year old's phone.

She flicked her thumb on the touchpad to open the video folder. A handful, most no longer than 15 seconds showing nothing more important than recording a prank in class. She cocked her head as she saw it. A longer video, 12 minutes and 32 seconds in length. And her lips spread into a wicked smile and she fought the urge to yell her joy as she watched Miles Hollingsworth bringing his lips down on the penis of an unknown man.

This was gold.

This is what dreams were made of.

* * *

Drew reclined on his couch, lethargic and sipping at some cheap beer Dallas had brought him knowing he needed something to drown out the pain of having his life wrecked. He had spent months as excited as Clare for their baby only to have it ripped away from him in the announcement that it was not his son. And so he drank, barely finding the motivation in his body to move his fingers around the Xbox controller in his hand. His fingers shook around the controller as his thoughts ate away at him. The thoughts were like parasites that had been pecking and eating at him until he felt like he was just a corpse on this couch barely going through the motions of life.

He had never felt this sick - well, since his brother died less than a year ago. And all those feelings came rushing back now as he wallowed in pity. He had dreams of a life with Clare, of raising a beautiful son together. Crushed and gone, like the future he had once dreamed of for his brother.

Tears streamed down his face as he shot someone in his game; it was nothing more than a part of ingrained motion rather than any real attention. This realizations struck him and he dropped the control which landed between his legs on the couch. _"Nothing will ever matter again,"_ he thought as he buried his face in a pillow and cried.

Hours passed that felt like an eternity as time became nothing to him. He probably fell asleep and had nightmares of crying. His eyes itched and his skin felt clammy from having slept in his clothing. His eyes settled on the screen he had left on and he saw the words 'You're dead.' He sure felt like it.

"Xbox off," he spoke in a croak to the vocal functions of the machine, before kicking off the couch and resting his feet off the side, cupping his head in his hands. His whole body ached. The alcohol most likely, which would explain his crying fit. He wasn't one to cry for no reason. Though it did feel right in some way. What had he done to deserve this?

Ever since the Zoe incident last term he had been so good. He kept girls at a distance, treated them with respect and had sex with no one but Clare – and Miles, though that hardly counted. One moment of bad decisions with Clare had created this problem. The first thought of a child terrified him to his core but soon enough he was ready to take on the burden of fatherhood and he was beyond excited. Drew's stomach clinched at the memory of Dallas telling him he heard he wasn't the father.

He stood to wobbly feet and walked toward the bathroom and on the way he spotted the crib. The crib he had bought mere weeks ago as he was expecting a bundle of joy to bless his life. He approached it, fell to his knees and cried as he ran his fingers over the wood, recalling the excitement he felt when he built it. And then he wrapped his hands around two of the wooden banisters and pulled, cracking and ripping them out of their sockets.

Holding the remnants of one of the broken sticks he swung it like a sword at the crib, wood on wood clattering with little damage, but that didn't stop him as he struck and struck. His hands burned from the force of his blows vibrating up the railing and into his arms but he ignored that as he bashed the crib until it was barely standing.

He threw his weapon aside and punched what was left of the barrier, cracking wood while cutting skin on his knuckles. He ignored the warm pain as it dripped down his arm - in fact he almost enjoyed it if he was feeling anything at all - as he kicked the crib at the base where bed met barrier and it fell to the floor. He grabbed and tore away what was left of the fence that would have kept his baby safely inside and fell into the his would-be son's bed, burying his face into the baby pillow as he cried himself back to sleep to dream about the child that would never be his.

He awoke a few hours later as the first streams of morning light shone into the room. He felt a burning on his knuckles, noticing the dried blood on his arms and sheets of the crib. "Fuck," he muttered. He pushed himself up and carefully climbed out of the bed, noting he was lucky to not have stabbed himself with the broken wood all around him while he slept.

He stumbled to the bathroom and looked hard at himself in the mirror as he scrubbed his hands of the dried up blood. Bloodshot and irritated eyes greeted him. He blinked at himself, then checking to make sure the stream of water in his hands was now clear of blood, he splashed water upward in his face to clean the dried tears.

He couldn't do this again. It wasn't even the drunkenness that caused it, though that too was not ideal. The loss of his baby - or rather the thought of his baby - was too much. And he had no one to talk to. All his friends were off supporting Clare as she searched for the courage to tell Eli he was the father. Dallas was the only person he could talk to - and even as a father himself, he couldn't help through this. He wouldn't let him vent his feelings knowing that anything said in a vent of rage about Clare would get back to her through Alli.

Drew rushed to the couch to find his phone and scrolled through the contacts; he just needed someone to help talk him to his senses. He was just halfway through his list when he found his solution. M.

Miles Hollingsworth owed him an equivalent favor.

* * *

A/N: Fun fact, this is the first full-chapter of a Degrassi fanfic I have written where Miles is not the main character!


	3. Life as a Disappointment

**Chapter 3: Life as a Disappointment**

Miles awoke with what may have been the vestiges of a hangover, not that he had long to think about it as his headache had a new cause.

"Wake up," he father demanded stiffly.

Miles made a sound resembling a grunt before crying in feigned pain as his father pulled the covers off him. Cold air licked at his skin as he craved to be back under the covers.

"Pathetic," his father muttered. "You had to leave my very important dinner - a dinner I held to fix your reputation - just to come home and get drunk."

Miles couldn't even muster the motivation to lash out. Last night certainly had not been for his sake.

"I don't understand how your turned out so worthless. I give up!" his father exclaimed, arms in the air in surrender, as he left the room.

It was only after he was awake enough to shower that he was able to process what he had heard as he cried against the shower wall, a knife of despair in his chest. Being abandoned always hurt the worst.

He could only tremble as he recalled Tristan's last words to him. "You're a terrible person," he had said. "You use and abuse people and one day you are going to wake up and realize you have nobody."

Today was that day.

* * *

Miles grunted. His body ached through sheer apathy as he stepped out of his car. He was back at the banquet hall. He prayed to whatever god he could not muster the faith to believe in that his phone had been found and sent to lost and found. The possibility didn't escape him that a place such as this that held parties only for the most wealthy wouldn't have one. Rich people rarely cared for the losses of minor monetary value.

Moments later he was inside, sleep fogging his eyes. He was rarely up at this hour but he had fallen asleep in a drunken stupor very early; if it weren't for his phone he would gladly be having a date with his bed. And just for a moment a frown crossed his face as he realized the only time his bed betrayed him was when his dad was making him miserable. All his relationships indirectly fail because of his father.

"Can I help you… sir?" a male voice interrupted him with confusion. The desk attendant. His voice spoke volumes for how disinterested in Miles he was, but he did have a job. The sooner Miles was out of his way the better.

"Ya-yeah," Miles said mildly flustered at his thoughts being interrupted. He didn't bother at pleasantries as neither of them were interested. "I lost my phone here last night. Have any been turned in?"

The man huffed. This hour of the morning and this brat was asking him to spend 15 seconds to walk to the back room! He didn't reply as he did so. Miles rolled his eyes.

Moments later he returned. "Yours?" he asked, handing him a phone.

Miles nodded grabbing it and leaving. Neither bothered to acknowledge etiquette.

His eyes flicked over the screen as he walked towards the exit. One missed text. He was such the mister-popular these days. The voice in his head was playful but his stomach ached with loneliness.

The text was from Drew. They hadn't spoken in months.

" _Later,"_ Miles thought to himself. _"I need to see Tristan."_

* * *

It was about nine in the morning when he pulled into the Milligan's driveway. It was early but Tristan was likely awake. He sat in the driveway for a moment, nervous, before getting out and marching to the door. His hand hesitated for just a moment before rapping his knuckles on the door. He heard rustling in the house and then the latches of the door loosening.

The door opened to the sight of Tristan. Miles' lips broke into a smile which slowly curved into something less than happy. Tristan was not happy to see him.

"What do you want Miles?" Tristan asked. His voice was cold but not rude.

"Uhh," Miles stammered, trying to figure out what to say. He didn't know exactly what he wanted to speak to Tristan about. "Can we talk?"

"About what?"

"I don't even know myself. Can I come in?"

Tristan's eyebrow furled in thought. "Fine," he said stepping aside.

Miles followed Tristan to his room, nostalgia hitting him hard. "Lots of good memories in this room," he said.

Tristan 'hmphed' in response. "So what do you want?"

"I just wanted to be with you. You're right, I don't want to end up alone. I'm trying Tris, I'm really trying. I care about you. Like really care about you," he said reaching ever so slightly for Tristan's hand.

Tristan held it away and sighed. "I really want to believe you. But we just need our space. We were much happier before we were dating – though the kissing was nice," he said with a smile.

"Just the kissing?" Miles asked stepping closer, putting his lips on Tristan's as his hands trailed up his body. Then he was flying through the air as Tristan pushed him to his bed. "Liking it rough now?" he asked, smirking all the while.

"Stop Miles."

Miles heart shattered and he felt sick to his stomach.

Tristan looked at him. "We can't do this. I miss the days when you were my best friend. I'm lonely too, you know? But if you just want to have sex then get into one of your moods where you hurt all your friends, I want no part of this. Just… just stay away for a while, okay?"

Miles felt himself shut down. He felt dead. But those were feelings – or rather, lack thereof. He wouldn't speak of them. "Okay, Tris," he said. And then he got up to leave.

He ignored the soft calls of his name as Tristan asked him to return.

He had never felt so alone. Tristan, the one person he knew who truly cared for him in all the little details, was done with him. No one wanted anything to do with him. Still just one text on his phone. Drew. What did Drew want with him anyway? He opened the text.

"Hey, I don't mean to bother you, but are you free to talk?" it read.

Talk. That's exactly what he needed. He typed back:

"I'll listen to your problems if you listen to mine."

Talking would only do so much. He just needed to forget all of this. Weed had been his solution for the recent months, but it hardly did for him what it used to. And last night had been bliss with his coke and liquor. More alcohol it is!

So he went. It was a sketchy place, one his parents would surely kill him for entering, but he hardly cared. He grabbed some straight vodka and apple whiskey and a two-liter coke - no need to get fancy, this mixture had worked well enough the night before to dull the world around him until he passed out. He paid and shrugged off the look the cashier gave him at his youth, knowing that the older man didn't care if it were a fake ID as long as it looked convincing.

He returned to his car and retrieved a half-full bottle of water from the floor board before pouring its contents to the ground. He felt a buzz in his pockets and checked to see Drew had texted him back. He ignored it for the time being as he pour a mix of the three drinks into the bottle - and only after tasting it did he note that their wasn't quite enough coke to enjoy it but it would more than do its job.

The first sip made him tingly. Not drastically so, but enough to answer the text in the case of rejection. He smiled when it wasn't.

"Come on over," it read.

* * *

 **A/N:** First time I have written Triles! More on them later of course :)


	4. Rekindling a Connection

**Chapter 4: Rekindling a Connection**

Miles was tipsy by the time he arrived at his destination. His vision wasn't blurry yet, but he certainly shouldn't be driving. He couldn't, however, remember why he was here. Drew wanted to talk, but why had he agreed to come? They weren't friends, not exactly. But there was something there. They had some sort of respect for each other. And Drew cared about him for some reason. Not the way Tristan had, but anything would soothe this loneliness now.

So that's why he was at the door of Drew Torres's house knocking uncertainly.

Moments later the door opened and Drew appeared. "Good, you made it…" he started excitedly and trailed off worriedly. "Did you drive here?"

Miles brushed it off, stepping into the house. "I'm not drunk," he said. To him it sounded normal, but he knew he didn't fool Drew.

"Yeah, sure. Well, you did say you had problems of your own to talk about. I guess they must be pretty big to be drunk at 10 o'clock in the morning."

"Not drunk," Miles insisted. "But getting there." He raised the now half empty bottle of his mixed drink to Drew. "Want some?"

Drew thought for moment before reaching out to grab it. "Might as well see what got you so messed up," he said taking a sip. He made a face as he fought the urge to spit it out - he had had much stronger in his life, but this is not what he expected in his mouth at the hour of the morning. Particularly with the stale taste of cheap beer in his mouth. He swallowed, handing the bottle back to Miles.

After a moment he spoke. "Yeah, you have big problems you need to talk about. I guess that makes us even."

Miles grunted in response as he followed Drew down to the basement. His eyebrow raised in amusement when he saw the mess. "Destroying a crib? I guess you do have problems too. Here I thought it was just pretty-boy drama?" he joked.

"You're one to talk," Drew retorted not taking offense at the joke. "Though you can say it is so called 'pretty-boy' drama." He took a moment to sigh before continuing in a low voice. "I found out the other day that Clare's baby isn't mine."

Miles mulled for a moment before responding. "That sucks."

"Ha, tell me about it," Drew agreed.

"And that lead to you beating up some poor kid's crib?"

"Not like my son's gonna be needing it. He doesn't exist." Drew laughed.

It was an odd laugh Miles noted. Not funny at all. This was the laugh he used when his friends used to ask him how he was after his father scolded him and made him feel like shit. It was a laugh that outwardly said "I'm fine, see, I'm laughing." Really it was because the feelings swirling around made you feel worse than dead inside.

"You need a distraction," Miles said, handing him the bottle.

Sometime passed as they talked about a lot of nothing. School, sports, friends that neither of them really had at the moment. It was why they were with each other after all. They took turns sipping from the bottle. It didn't last long as they took turns trying to one-up the other on how much they could drink. Not the best of plans with how strong it was; it might as well have been shots with how strong it was. Drew volunteered to go to Miles' car and get the liquor so they could make more.

"You know," Drew said, the beginnings of slur in his voice. "This is less depressing when you aren't doing it alone."

"Yeah," Miles agreed, going in for an eager kiss. He stopped after a moment, noticing Drew stock-still under him, not replying to the kiss. A moment of awkward silence ensued before he said, "Guess I misread the moment. Sorry."

"Uhh, its fine," Drew said, not particularly disturbed. "I mean, look at what happened the last time we hung out Mr. So-Not-Gay-At-All."

"Never said that," Miles retorted playfully, recalling this same exchange a few months back. "But, yeah, I kinda thought that's why you wanted me over," Miles added sheepishly.

"And you have to get drunk to have sex with me?" Drew joked.

"Being drunk is a whole other thing," Miles stated. He knew Drew knew what he meant.

"I feel ya. Plus, Miles, I would never think of you as just sex."

Miles laughed. "From what I hear about you I thought all you cared about was sex."

Drew frowned. "Ummm, yeah. I don't intend for it to be that way. Sex kinda just happens. I didn't even like Clare like that yet when I thought I got her pregnant. Hell, I even had sex with you the first time we were alone together."

Then Miles busted out laughing.

"What?" Drew said in a laugh of his own.

Miles was still giggling when he answered. "Reminds me of the time I accepted a challenge of my sister to get pregnant."

Drew had a straight face in shock that slowly curled into a smile. "Wow dude, you're drunk as fuck."

"Am not," Miles fought back.

"Are too!" Drew said, snatching the bottle from the younger guy. "Somebody's a lightweight," he sang.

"Give it back," Miles said playfully, falling against Drew's chest as he raised the bottle high in the air.

Miles groaned. "Too much effort." Then relaxed against Drew's chest. "This is nice," he murmured.

Drew let him fall asleep there, before slowing dozing off himself.


	5. The Curse of Happiness

**Chapter 5: The Curse of Happiness**

Miles' phone ringing woke them up. Drew awoke first, his slight movement shaking Miles into consciousness. Miles shrugged off the drowsiness from resting his head in Drew's lap to retrieve his phone from his pants.

"Ugh, Maya," he said. Then, realizing Drew likely had no idea of what was going on in that part of his life, he explained. "Maya cares a lot about me. I'm fucked up, but I can't keep dragging her down. Think she'll hate me if I ignore her for now?"

"If she cares about you I'm sure she will understand. Mentioning being fucked up, I believe it's your turn to tell in this show-and-tell. I showed you my problem," he said, indicating the crib with a wave of his hand. "Now you tell me yours."

Miles grunted, reaching for the bottle that Drew had left on the arm of the couch. He was too slow. Drew grabbed it as his fingers brushed the plastic.

"You've had enough," he said with a smirk.

Miles groaned, too tired to fight back. Though, if he had to be honest, it was the alcohol rather than any real tiredness.

"Come on Miles, out with it. I know you want to talk."

"Fine," Miles acquiesced. "Honestly, it was starting to go away at least a little while around you." Miles smiled nervously. "No, I'm not crushing on you. But being around you kind of fills a void."

"Don't go expecting me to fill any voids," Drew joked with a wink.

"Ha ha. I'll have you know my mouth is anything but a void."

"I've heard a thing or two about your big mouth."

Miles returned a wink at that before returning his head to Drew's lap, eyes to the ceiling in reverie. "Jokes aside, you make me feel less alone. Like… I have friends. But no one truly understands me. Or cares. I feel like you care. I always hurt the ones I love. I just don't want to get hurt by them. So I lash out," he said in a croak, eyes shaking to hold in the water that threatened to spill forth. "I had to convince Tristan to dump me. I asked him was he so desperate for love that he would let me treat him like absolute garbage. And he still came back to me. He's too good for me. I don't deserve him. I'm so awful."

His eyes gazed straight to the ceiling and tears began to fall forth. He couldn't look at Drew.

"I had to convince him to be done with me. So I manipulated him. I convinced him I still loved Maya. It worked. He was angry. He knew that I manipulated him. Not how I did, but that I did. He told me that I was a terrible person. That I use and abuse people. That one day I would wake up and I would be alone. Today was that day."

Drew took a slow breath as he thought of what to say, running a hand through Miles' hair in comfort. He said the one thing he thought was best. "That sucks bro."

Miles turned his head in Drew's lap to look up at him, lips slowly spreading into a smile he couldn't fight as a puff of air escaped his lips in a laugh that he barely contained. Drew smiled at him as he continued to stroke his hand through the teen's brown hair.

"I appreciate this," Miles murmured.

"What?" Drew asked making eye contact.

"What we have here. We both know we will never love each other, but this is nice. Being here, like this. It was what Tristan and I were like before we fell in love and he began to know the real me. I made him run for the hills."

Drew just nodded in acknowledgement.

"And?" Miles asked.

"Huh?"

"Why are you okay with this? I know what I'm using you for. Why does it benefit you to be here with me?"

"I guess the same. Ish. It's nice to have this. Not having to worry about anything is nice. This is just really pleasant. It's different with guys than girls. You would know more about that than me though."

Miles smirked at him. "Just talking?"

"Well, I guess there's a whole other thing we can do without worry too," he said, hands gripping ever so slightly in Miles' hair. With his other hand he ran a thumb along Miles face to remove the last of the nearly dried tears. "I want you to not have to cry when around me."

The vibrations of Miles' laughter sent chills up Drew's thighs. "When did this become a romance?"

"Did it?" Drew asked, lips twisting into a smile.

Miles sat up and re-positioned himself to be sitting in Drew's lap facing him. "Just now," he said as he pressed his lips into Drew's. Drew didn't hold back either as they fought for control of the kiss. Miles' desire for domination of the kiss only increased as Drew grabbed his ass launching Miles further into the conflict.

They kept up with this for who knows how long - they sure didn't - before Miles broke this kiss. "This is nice," he said, before flopping down on the couch.

Drew went in for tickle and another peck on the lips before lying down next to him. "You wouldn't be so tired if you didn't drink so much," he joke.

"You're one to talk," Miles retorted as his hand snaked up Drew's chest before resting. Miles allowed himself to melt into Drew and he felt more secure and warm than he had in his life. It would all end soon. Everything in his life did.

* * *

They stayed in their embrace for hours, drifting in and out of sleep. It was two o'clock in the afternoon when hunger broke their embrace.

"Want to get lunch or something?" Drew asked.

"Yes!" Miles exclaimed. "I'm starving."

When Drew checked it phone, his face dropped. A missed call from Clare. Miles noticed his crestfallen look and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Clare called me. I... Don't know why. I don't want to talk to her right now."

"Check your texts," Miles suggested.

"You first," Drew countered.

"Fine," Miles huffed, grabbing his phone to check what Maya had texted him. It was about what he expected:

[Miles, we need to talk. Answer your phone.]

[Miles!]

[You need to talk about this]

[Your family has no idea where you are!]

[Do you even know you're all over the news?]

That concerned him slightly. He replied back to her, "For what? This is hardly new to me, though I don't recall doing anything lately. Surely running out on a dinner isn't news worthy."

"She just said I was in the news. Your turn," Miles said, turning his gaze to Drew.

"Clare says: Look, I know you don't want to talk right now, but Simpson says we have something to handle. One of the student has hit the status of scandal of the year. We are going to need to help keep this under control. Degrassi can't deal with another scandal."

Drew looked at Miles. "What did you do?"

Miles eyes were wide. "I didn't!"

"Then why do you look scared?"

"I... Whatever this is, it has to be about me. My dad's going to kill me... or send me away. Whichever is worse. He told me this morning that he is done with me."

Drew placed a reassuring hand on Miles' shoulder. "That has to hurt."

"I... we just found... this! Whatever this is," Miles said waving his hands around their vicinity. "I don't remember the last time I have felt this good. I can't go back home to him."

"Look, you can stay here for the rest of the day. No matter what happens. My mom won't mind. She probably won't even notice. Even if, she'd be glad to see I have a friend considering the baby thing."

"Friends. I like that."

"One condition though. Call Maya and ask her what is going on... I'm not ready to talk to Clare yet. Plus, it is your mess," Drew joked.

"Fine." So he pulled out his phone and called Maya, awaiting the shrill, if friendly, voice to answer.

"MILES!" He heard. No surprise. "Are you okay? I was worried."

"I'm fine. I'm just at a friend's. What's up? What did I end up in the news for this time?"

"Wait. You mean you don't know? Miles... someone leaked a sex tape of you on the internet. A gay sex tape. It's all everyone is talking about."

"No. No. I deleted that."

"Miles! That really happened? I was hoping it was a fake."

"... Yes. It was a bad time. I wanted to get revenge on my dad. I wasn't thinking straight."

"Clearly."

"Very funny. But what am I going to do? My dad is going to kill me."

"Miles, its time you learn to deal with your dad. Because if you don't help your dad cover this up you could get charged with child pornography."

"Oh my god. This is ... not what I needed right now. I need to go figure this out."

"Miles... if you need me, I'm here. Don't tune your friends out for once."

"I'll... I'll try. Uh, Maya, thanks."

"Don't mention it." Then she hung up.

"That doesn't sound good," Drew interjected into the silence.

"No. Not at all. Drew... we just got dragged into national news," Miles said, searching the news quickly on the phone. "Here it is: BREAKING NEWS," Miles feigned enthusiasm as he spoke. "Miles Hollingsworth III, troubled son of candidate for Mayor Miles Hollingsworth II, released a sex tape in order to discredit his father's candidacy."

Drew looked at him in shock.

"I guess I didn't delete that video properly… I did lose my phone last night…"

They were silent for a bit. _"Why now, of all times, did this shit have to go down?"_ That's all that Miles could think as he fell to Drew's couch in tears. Happiness was always fleeting for him. It was a curse. Whenever he was happy, something ten times its negative struck him immediately afterward. Not even Drew's hand rubbing his back and whispering words of encouragement could console him.

"I won't leave you alone in this Miles. Don't worry. I've more than learned my lesson about dropping a friend as soon as things get hard for me."

They were all in. This was true friendship. And Miles knew something even worse was bound to come from it. It was a curse after all.

"Pass me that bottle," Miles demanded. "We're going to need it."

* * *

A/N: Drama had to come from somewhere right? *cries for my Driles*

Also, a nice longer chapter. The story really picks up here I feel. I hope you enjoyed!


	6. A Mother's Love

**Chapter 6: A Mother's Love**

They drank for a while, but not long enough to get drunk. Well, anymore so than they already were. The calm was broken as Miles' phone rang.

It was his father.

"Ugh," Miles exclaimed, not wanting to deal with this, and throwing his phone face down to the couch to muffle out the sound.

"You don't think it would be best for you to answer it?" Drew asked.

"I… can't. He'll kill me. All he'll care about is his stupid career," Miles sulked. "He might… he might uhhh…" Miles' voice was breaking now, and Drew became more concerned.

"He might what?"

"He'll hit me. He's been doing that lately. He pushed me into a wall after I came out about Tristan. He punched me a few times when my family wasn't looking, and then the other day he threw a mug at me, almost hit my brother and then hit me in the face in front of him. After this, after the fire... I don't know what he'll do."

Drew was shocked. "Wow. I knew he wasn't a great guy, but that's awful." He thought for a moment before continuing. "I meant what I said. You can stay here as long as you need to. I'll let my mom know."

Miles nodded, then grabbed Drew's arm to stop him. "Wait, no, you can't. If you tell her, she'll know its you. In the video."

Drew's face twisted in concentration, before giving up. "It may be the alcohol talking, but I don't care. I'm not letting you father hurt you for what I let happen."

"You didn't let anything happen..."

"I let you take my penis into your mouth Miles. We're in this together. That's final."

Miles nodded. It pained him to hurt someone else because of his actions, but it also made him feel happier than he had ever felt before. Everyone else had left him as a result of the person his father had made him become, but Drew was sticking with him. He decided then and there that all the bad things he had heard about Drew back at school were irrelevant. Whatever person Drew had been, he was a good person now. Miles only hoped he could follow in his footsteps. A chill came over him as Drew left the couch. Miles hadn't realized how close they had been and how much he had enjoyed Drew's warmth.

Drew returned a few minutes later. "Oh, boy," he said when he made eye contact with Miles. "Prepare to meet my mother. She's making us lunch upstairs."

* * *

15 minutes later they were at the kitchen tables with Drew's mother, Audra. Drew was right, Miles noted, she certainly was something. Nice enough as she had made the three of them sandwiches with chips; she even cared enough to make the sandwich to Miles' specifications, though he asked for it as simple as possible to not be a burden.

But he could tell by the tone of her voice that she was one harsh lady. Now he understood what it meant when the students of Degrassi talked about the terrors of Audra Torres in the halls.

"So," Audra began, "Drew told me you need a place to stay for a few days."

Miles nodded. "That would be nice."

"And why, may I ask?"

Miles was quiet for a moment before Drew spoke for him. "Miles' dad has been hitting him lately. He... I don't want him to go back to that."

His mother nodded in understanding. "That's reasonable, as we sort this out. Do you have something else you need to tell me? How do you know Miles anyway?"

"I used to work for Mr. Hollingsworth, as you know. We became friends back then," Drew answered half-heartedly.

"The full story," his mother demanded.

"Well-um..." Drew began before Miles took the burden on himself.

"Look, Mrs. Torres. My dad and I don't get along. This was before he started hurting me, but I wanted to get revenge on him. I decided to make a sex tape and I dragged Drew into it since I knew Drew had reason to want to get revenge as well since my father fired him unjustly. It was a mistake, I thought I destroyed the vid but it somehow got out. No one knows that it is Drew and I intend to keep it that way."

Drew was slumped in his seat, ready for his mother's lecture.

Audra only nodded. "I assumed. It was too convenient for me to only find out about this friendship after you were in the news this afternoon."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Drew murmured, before Audra silenced him.

"I don't care what you identify as Drew. Just make something good of yourself and give me a grandchild and I'm happy."

Drew blinked. "I think you misunderstand our friendship, Mom."

Audra shook her head. "That's not important right now. What is important is that we handle this." She looked at Miles. "You can stay, but keep it a secret. Don't tell your family or friends. If they know you are staying with Drew, they'll assume."

Miles nodded. "I agree. I don't want to cause any trouble. Ask me to leave at any time and I will."

Drew sighed in relief. This had gone better than he expected. That wasn't the end of it, he knew, as his mother spoke again.

"Drew, we'll talk more about this later. Miles, Adam's old room should be ready for you. The bed is yours, but try not to mess with anything else."

Miles nodded gratefully.

"Drew, make Miles feel at home. I have an emergency PTA meeting to discuss this situation. Degrassi has had a lot of trouble lately. A sex scandal is not what we need. The new principal wants this situation handled. I'll let you two know what it going on so Miles can best prepare himself for school when it resumes after the repairs next week. Drew, we're talking tonight about all this."

The boys nodded in unison. It filled Miles' heart with joy as Audra gave him a supportive grip on the shoulder. "If he hits you again," she whispered ominously, "let me know." Then she left the room.

"So..." Drew said a few moments after his mom left.

"That was something," Miles finished for him. "She seems nice."

"She is... though I'm shocked she took it so well," Drew replied.

"You know, I'm kind of jealous," Miles said after a pause. Drew raised an eyebrow at that. "Your mom was so quick to help you. She didn't judge you and she took the fact that you might be into guys as no big deal."

Drew was quiet for a moment. "Your parents wouldn't support you?" he asked.

"I... I don't know." Miles said.

"Give them time," Drew suggested, clapping on arm on Miles back. "My mom wasn't so quick to accept Adam for who he is but she never stopped loving him. They'll come around I'm sure."

Miles nodded. "My mom... she will be fine with it in the end. My dad has never been okay with me."

"Sometimes you just have to be happy with those that support you and thrive in it. Bianca taught me that."

Miles nodded and then checked his phone. A text from his dad: Be home at 5 and be ready to explain yourself.

"My dad is going to be home at 5 to talk. I should run home and grab some things before he does."

"Want me to come with?" Drew asked.

"Nah, my siblings will be home. Best for them not to see you."

* * *

A/N: One of my favorite things about this fic is exploring Drew after the baby thing since he had soooo little plot int he last stretches of season 14. Drew had finally become the good person that stopped abandoning his friends at the first sign of trouble - then poof, the writers were done with him short of the boring graduation episode where he relapse but then eventually helped Dallas.

Also, this isn't one of my stories I have super planned out from the start. I'm doing the whole 'write as I go' to see how it works for me. Its fun, but I also feel like its a bit inadequate at times. But writing is practice and I have to keep practicing!


End file.
